“There was always this secret part of Søren that wanted to have a child,” Nora said. “And it was never going to be with me. I can’t even have kids anymore—by choice, I promise. So…when given the chance, he took it. I don’t blame him. I’ve taken my fair share of chances. Being in an open relationship, there’s always more risk. Like someone getting pregnant, which…happens.”

He sensed there was a story there, even more story than she was telling him.

“Anyway,” she continued, “it’s fine. I love Fionn. He was a surprise but a good one.”

She took something out of her bag that looked like a passport wallet. She opened it and showed him a photograph of a little blond boy, about two years old.

“He’s cute,” Cyrus said.

She slid the photo carefully back into her bag, but only after glancing at it one more time and smiling.

“That ‘ordeal,’” she said, putting “ordeal” in finger-quotes, “changed everything for us. I was seeing someone else at the time. Søren and I had been on and off for years. But after that, we were on and we’ve stayed on. And King and I had some bad blood between us. We cleaned the blood up finally. That was also right when King stopped fucking around with everyone on the planet. After Céleste was born, King decided to turn over a new leaf. That’s why we all moved down here. We wanted to leave our pasts in New York.”

“I think yours might have followed you down here.”

“Seems to be the case,” she said.

“Anything else you holding out on me?”

“Well…I told you I have two men in my life. My other lover, the twenty-seven-year-old…is Kingsley’s son.”

“God. Damn.”

“Oh, it gets worse, my friend.”

“I’m out.”

She smiled, halfway giggled.

“About time you told me this,” Cyrus said. “This matters to the case, you know. If Father Ike knew about you and your Viking—”

“I promise, Søren did not know Father Ike. He would have told me if he did. And Søren wouldn’t have given Father Ike my business card. And if he had, for any reason at all, he would have told us both. Hand to God.” Nora put her right hand on Father Ike’s Bible and lifted her left hand. Cyrus had to admit it was compelling testimony.

“It’s a motive, though, right? For a priest to call you? Say he found out this lady in town was sleeping with a priest. Maybe he’s got a girlfriend, too, feels guilty as hell over it, wants to talk to someone who gets it.”

“He had a chastity device in his nightstand. You really think he was calling me just to chat?”

“All right, good point.” If they hadn’t found the chastity whatever thing, Cyrus might be able to convince himself Father Ike was looking for some understanding in his final hours from a priest’s mistress. But they had found it, and there was no pretending it didn’t exist.